


anonymous & famous(two sides of the same coin)

by BugontheRug



Series: Bug's RWG Bingo 2018 [1]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Injured Rick, M/M, painter daryl, singer rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 01:25:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15062021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BugontheRug/pseuds/BugontheRug
Summary: Rick is a famous, lonely, country singer. One night a friend invites him to an art gallery and he falls in love with the paintings created by an anonymous artist, who he longs to meet.Daryl is an artist who creates anonymous works and therefore never attends his gallery showings. He learns one night that someone bought five of his paintings and donated four to charitable causes.Rick attends all of Daryl’s galleries and always buys paintings and donates them, but hasn’t kept one since the first. Daryl has been trying to paint something he’ll keep and is pulling his hair out trying to figure this guy out.Will the two ever meet? And if they do, will they meet the other's expectations?





	anonymous & famous(two sides of the same coin)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is for my RWG Bingo 2018 Challenge for my Artists square. Please enjoy :)

Rick slouched on his couch scrolling through Netflix. He had been starting shows and movies, watching five minutes of them, and then continued searching for the last two hours. He was bored out of his mind! He hated the downtime between tours; there was only so much time he could spend writing new songs and he had hit a writing block. 

He had been a country singer for the last eight years and two years ago he finally found the courage to break up with his abusive ex, Lori, with the help of his friend and manager, Michonne. He took some time to find himself again and spent most of it writing songs about his time with Lori, his struggle to be free of her, and how he’d swung between the feelings of freedom and fear of being alone. It was his best selling album and now he has to find a way to compete with that.

Rick sighed and put on a three-star indie action movie and watched three minutes of it before his phone rang.

“Hey, Michonne,” Rick said pausing the movie. “What’s up?”

“ _You_ are leaving your apartment tonight,” Michonne said with conviction. Rick looked down at his PJ pants and ratty tee.

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent. There will be a knock on your door soon by a nice man who’s going to drive you to an art gallery I’m attending. Dress nice~” she singsonged before hanging up. Rick sighed and made his way to his closet where he put on a slate-colored suit and a white button up, leaving the jacket open and several of the top buttons unbuttoned showing a little chest hair. He styled his curls and was putting on some shoes when he heard a knock at the door. 

***

Rick arrived at the small art gallery in downtown Atlanta and made his way through the front door. He scanned the crowd and found Michonne in an Emerald green gown with a flute of champagne in her hand laughing in a group of music producers. She had been trying to find one to replace Abraham, who believed when something works it shouldn’t be changed and therefore was clashing with Rick about what his next album should sound like. Rick wanted to start experimenting, trying new sounds. He already had a solid fan base and he felt that was the direction to go after his last album. 

He waved to her to get her attention and she excused herself, confidently striding over to him and giving him kisses on his cheeks.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” She said, handing him a flute as a waiter walked by.

“Like I had a choice.” he teased taking a sip. She gave him a wide smile.

“Come on.” She started leading him towards the first painting. “I’ve heard amazing things about the artist and couldn’t wait to come tonight.”

“Who’s the artist?” Rick asked as if he would even know given an answer. He isn’t big on the art scene.

“No one knows! They go by the pseudonym Archer and have made a name for themselves the last couple years.” Rick gave a noncommittal hum, wondering what kind of person wanted to get famous without the recognition. It was one of the biggest draws for Rick, a small town boy from southern Georgia, to make a big name for himself. He flourished in the spotlight and loved the screaming fans as he sang on stage.

They went up to the first painting done in red white and blue with a heavy dose of black. It was a portrait of a rough looking man with a strong square jaw and hair in a military cut. He was standing at attention with a smirk and his right hand missing. There were bullet holes scattered through his chest and one through the forehead. Rick could feel the loss permeating from the painting pulling at Rick’s heartstrings.

Moving from painting to painting, Rick couldn’t help but be in awe. The paintings evoked such strong emotions in him, he quickly grabbed a card and pencil from a waitress passing by and wrote down his favorites. 

By the time he got to the last painting, he already had four written down and none of them compared to it. It had a long-haired, naked man facing away from the viewer, his scarred back in full display, reaching upwards towards a yellow/pink light. The bottom of the painting was dark with monster hands reaching up towards the man and a chain around his ankle anchoring him there broken.

Emotions swirled in Rick bringing tears to his eyes. The sense of freedom in the painting reminded him of his when he was writing his last album. He wonders what the artist had to go through in order to paint this. Rick wiped his tears away and wrote the painting down and headed towards the gallery director to purchase the paintings.

“You planning on buying all of those?” Michonne teased. Rick couldn’t help the blush rising to his cheeks as he nods. “What are you even going to do with all of them?”

***

“Wait, wait, wait! Yer tellin’ me that one person bought _five_ of my paintings? Hell, isn’t one enough?!” Daryl asked, pacing in front of Carol, the gallery director.

She scoffed. “What? You want to be a starving artist?” Daryl sent her a glare.

“It ain’t that. I want to know what they plan on doing with all those paintings. People only buy two at the most!” He watched as she flipped through her clipboard.

“ _Motherhood_ is being donated to the maternity ward at Grady Memorial, _The Patriot_ is being donated to a veteran’s home in southern Georgia, _Playground_ to a child’s cancer center, _River_ to a boy’s group home in northern GA, and _Death and Rebirth_ the buyer is keeping for himself.”

Daryl remembered painting _Death and Rebirth_. His father just passed and Daryl felt the tight ball of anxiety he always carried dissipate, leaving him in tears. His father always lurked in the back of his mind like a monster in the shadows as he waited for the frequent calls for bail and booze that he couldn’t refuse, which would often leave him with another scar to add to his collection. He painted _Death and Rebirth_ with a sense of freedom and a way to put his demons behind him.

Daryl wondered what kind of person it was who bought and kept this painting. What did they see when they looked at it?

“Seems like a waste of money to jus’ be givin; it away.” Daryl finally responded. Carol rolled her eyes.

“It’s not wasted if it’s feeding you! Stop complaining and help me plan your next show. What’s the theme this time?”

“Well, see I was thinking...”

***

Five gallery shows later had Daryl laid out on Carol’s office couch playing with a rubber band ball. Carol came in a few minutes later rolling her eyes at the artist and taking a seat at her desk.

“Finally!” Daryl said, sitting up and putting the ball down. “So, what’s it this time?”

Carol gave him a knowing smirk and pulled out her clipboard. “Only three paintings this time. One was _Homebound_ donated to a small no-kill shelter in Atlanta and the pairing piece _Rescued_ ” she paused for dramatic effect, “was kept.” 

“Seriously?! That’s what he kept?” Daryl didn’t understand this man (yes, after much prodding Carol finally gave him something about the buyer). His buyer had attended all his galleries since the first one and has bought and donated several paintings from each, but he had yet to keep one for himself since _Death and Rebirth_. It drove Daryl insane! He would find himself painting and wondered if this was the piece that his buyer would keep. He stared at pictures of _Death and Rebirth_ for hours wondering what about that piece made it worth keeping. And now the man bought _Rescued_ , completely surprising Daryl.

Daryl had found a sad, starving dog by his building’s dumpster a few months ago and rescued him, naming him Jinx. Jinx, a chihuahua mix, was wary at first and a bit food aggressive, but he settled into apartment life well. He liked to go on hikes on the Greenway when Daryl had time and he liked to cuddle on his lap any chance he could. Daryl loved the little guy and did several paintings of him, including the two-part Rescued. One was a painting of Jinx when he first brought him home, dirty, sad, and scared, while the second painting was a more recent one capturing Jinx’s endless energy and happiness. It always amazed Daryl how a little love can cause such a dramatic change.

“He asked for you again,” Carol said interrupting his thoughts. That’s the other thing. His buyer had always asked Carol if the artist was there that night, each time receiving a no in which he always responded ‘maybe next time’. 

His curiosity getting the best of him, Daryl said: “Let’s set up a time and place to meet.” Carol’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Really? You’re going to give up your anonymity for this guy?” Daryl shrugged.

“Main reason was because of my pa, other jus’ me liking my space. But s’not like being a famous artist is gonna have the paps after me.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” she said giving him a concerned look.

“I am,” he said determinedly. He was going to figure this guy out.

***

Rick couldn’t believe it! After two years of gallery shows he was finally going to meet the artist that left him in awe after every painting he saw. He was surprised when Carol led him to her office after the last show to have him sign some non-disclosure papers and set up a meeting with Archer themself!

Now here he was, dressed in his best royal blue suit that is tailored to show off his long legs and broad shoulders and makes his eyes pop. He wanted to make the best impression, honored to be let in on such a well-kept secret.

He followed the waiter through the restaurant and his eyes met the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He sat at a small table by himself wearing a deep black suit, jacket open with several of his shirt buttons undone. His long, brown hair was tied back and a trimmed goatee framed a smirk. Rick realized the man saw him checking him out and, to make things worse, he tripped, jostling the waiter in front of him. He could feel his face heating up and averted his gaze, hoping they would pass by the man’s table quickly.

Even worse, that was where the waiter stopped and Rick was left alone with the man. 

“Um, hi. I’m Rick. Rick Grimes.” He said reaching a hand out to shake and ended up knocking over the vase on the table. “Shit! I’m so sorry!” Rick quickly tried to soak up the mess with his napkin, stopping as the man started laughing.

“ ‘S fine man, jus’ leave it. I’ll wave over a waiter. Take a seat!” His voice was deep and a little gruff and Rick sat down feeling more unsure of himself than ever. “Name’s Daryl.”

“Rick.” He was mesmerized by Daryl’s deep blue eyes. Daryl chuckled.

“Ya already said.” Rick blushed, at a loss for words. Now that he was here, what was he supposed to say? For some reason, he assumed the artist was going to be older, more grandparent-ly. He wasn’t prepared for a man in his prime shooting little amused smirks at him. “So, I hear you’ve been wantin’ ta meet me for a while now. Why?”

Rick could do this. He’s faced off against many a talk show host, this was nothing! “I love your work. I don’t know much about art, but your paintings always hit me here,” he said gesturing to his heart, “and I wanted to meet the person who could do that and tell them I think they’re amazingly talented.”

Daryl’s amused smirk dropped and he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, thanks I guess. I mean,” he stopped and looked at Rick giving a humorless laugh, “I never had ta deal with compliments before.” Rick could only stare in shock. It blew his mind that this man wasn’t constantly being complimented for something!

Rick was going to continue his compliments, but Daryl looked uncomfortable in his seat and Rick didn’t want the night to end like this. “Well, that’s why I wanted to meet you. What I want to know is why, after all this time, you agreed to meet with me?”

Daryl shifted, taking a sip of water, about to answer when the waiter arrived to take their order. He watched as Daryl relaxed back into the confident man he was earlier as he ordered and Rick quickly scanned the menu, choosing the first thing he saw for his order.

They thanked the waiter and Daryl slouched a bit in his seat before answering his question. “I was curious. Ya kept buyin’ all these paintings but kept donatin’ them. Ya only kept three of my paintings and I wanted ta know, why those three? 

It was Rick’s turn to feel uncomfortable. He’d talked about his time with Lori plenty on talk shows, but there he was able to detach himself, made it seem more like a dream. Now to tell a complete stranger at the privacy of their table made it seem too real. He took a deep, grounding breath before beginning.

“So you know about my break up with Lori? Well–” He was interrupted by “Who’s Lori?” Rick couldn’t believe it! He knew country stars weren’t talked about as much as rock stars or actors, but in his home state of Georgia, it seemed like everyone recognized him. To meet someone who didn’t? It was refreshing.

“Oh, wow. Sorry.” He said when he realized a bit of time passed with him silent. “I’m not used to people not knowing about my life. I’m a singer. My last album went platinum.” Rick mentally kicked himself. He sounded like a pompous star, but he only wanted to impress the man in front of him. 

“Oh, I don’t really keep up with music an’ shit.” 

“ It’s fine. I don’t mind. It’s actually really nice. I don’t normally meet people on a level playing field.” Rick gave him his best smile, receiving a small one in return.

“So what kinda music ya sing?” Daryl asked, leaning forward onto his elbows. Rick unconsciously leaned in too. 

“Country rock.” Daryl snorted.

“Of course ya would. Ya radiate good ol’ southern boy charm.”

Rick licked his lips. “That the only thing I radiate?” He watched Daryl’s eyes follow his tongue before meeting Rick’s, his pupils dilated slightly. He leaned back, putting space between them.

“Ya never finished answering my questions,” Daryl said, changing the subject. Rick leaned back too, unsure if he crossed a line.

“My previous girlfriend was manipulative and emotionally abusive. When I saw _Death and Rebirth_ , it was like seeing all my emotions from our relationship and resulting breakup put into color on a canvas. It was hard after our breakup. I struggled and at times wondered if I should just go back, but now I look at the painting and it’s easier to remember why I don’t. As for the others, I’m a sucker for happily ever after.” Rick gave him a shy smile. 

Daryl had listened attentively as Rick bared his heart to him. He reached out, putting his hand over Rick’s, which was fiddling with his damp napkin. “That was a shit thing ya went through.” Rick nodded feeling his eyes prick and tried to blink it away. He heard all kinds of stuff from all kinds of people after they learned what he’d been through, but only Michonne’s and now Daryl’s simple acknowledgments had him close to tears.

Luckily food came and they changed topics. They talked more of Rick’s career, he shared some wild tour and fan stories, and Daryl’s painting and his process. The night passed in a blur of laughs and warm feelings, Rick never wanted it to end. As their plates were cleared away, he racked his brain trying to think of how to extend their time but came up empty. 

“I had a really great time tonight.” He said, trying to keep his disappointment at bay.

“Doesn’t have ta be over.” The hungry Daryl sent him had shivers running up his spine.

“Yeah?”

“My place is a few blocks over if ya wanna come over.” 

“Yeah.” He said breathlessly.

***

After he locked the door behind them, Daryl turned to see a nervous-looking Rick glancing around the apartment. He wanted to run his hands through Rick’s curls as soon as he saw the man. Really, he wanted to run his hands all over the singer. He had looked like one of Daryl’s wet dreams come to life and he was such a fucking adorable klutz, Daryl didn’t stand a chance against falling for this man. Now the confident, flirty Rick from the restaurant was gone and Daryl was concerned.

“We don’t have ta do anything if ya don’t wanna. We could watch a movie or somethin’” Daryl said, gaining the attention of the other man with a gentle touch to the elbow. Rick gave him a small, sad smile.

“I want to. It’s not that. I just...It’s been years since I’ve been with a man and I haven’t been with anyone since Lori so I’m worried I’m a little rusty.” Daryl turned Rick to him and cupped his face.

“Don’t care if yer rusty. Only thing that matters is that we do things that make both of us feel good.” Rick nodded in his hands, relief relaxing him. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.” He whispered against Daryl’s lips. Daryl kissed him, keeping it gentle but firm, allowing no room for doubt that he wanted this. Rick returned it enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around Daryl’s waist pulling him closer. Daryl managed to maneuver them to the couch and removing their jackets without having to break much contact, ending up under Rick.

He spread his legs allowing Rick to settle between them. The singer ground their hips together while tangling his fingers in Daryl’s hair, giving a tug. Daryl groaned into the kiss and Rick slipped his tongue into his mouth and ground down again. Daryl slid his hands under Rick’s shirt feeling his warm skin and settled them on his hips urging him to ground again at a different angle.

Rick sat up, causing Daryl to spread his legs a little wider, and began unbuttoning his shirt. He spread it, revealing Daryl’s chest and paused. Daryl knew what he as staring at; years of scars littered his chest, some from cigarettes, some from the belt. He had come to terms with them over the years but knows it always startled his lovers. He gave Rick a moment to process.

Rick’s fingers ran gently over a few of them. “Who?” He asked softly.

“My pa.” Rick’s brows furrowed.

“Is he...” Daryl took Rick’s hand that was tracing a pretty deep scar to bring it to his lips for a kiss.

“Gone.” Rick nodded and went in for another kiss, softer than the last. Daryl worked off Rick’s shirt and then tried to get his trousers off, but the damn inner button wouldn’t come undone! Rick chuckled leaning back. 

“I’ll get it. You just get yours off, hot stuff.” Rick stood up and stripped out of his pants while Daryl took off his. He sat up on the couch and enjoyed the view in front of him. Rick was all clean lines and lean muscles with a little tummy pooch. Daryl’s mouth watered as he took in the sight of Rick’s thick cock bobbing slightly in front of him.

“Ya gonna stand there all night or ya gonna come over here?” Rick snorted and straddled Daryl’s lap, both men groaning at the contact. Rick pulled him into a breathtaking kiss. Daryl rubbed his hands over Rick’s back down his sides to cup his ass and pulled him closer. He slid a hand between them, wrapping it around their cocks and slowly pumped. Daryl’s head fell back onto the couch and Rick kissed and nipped his way down his neck. Before resting his forehead on Daryl’s shoulder.

“God, Daryl. Feels good.” His hips twitched and Daryl held his hand still encouraging him to thrust, sweeping his thumb over their leaking heads. All too soon the friction became too much. “You wouldn’t have any lube in here, would you?” 

“Nah, ‘s in the bedroom.” They got up and Daryl lifted the singer up by the backs of his thighs. Rick laughed and wrapped his legs around his waist and Daryl carried him to the bedroom. He laid him down unto the bed and crawled over him, reaching into his bedside drawer for his bottle of lube, dropping it on the bed next to them.

Daryl kissed Rick slow and languid, sliding to the side and pulling Rick partially on top. They twined together, hands reaching, touching, stroking. Daryl’s cock slid in the dip of Rick’s hip, eased by leaking pre-come. Rick’s was thrusting his cock through Daryl’s lube-slicked hand, his grunts and moans urging Daryl on and tightening his grip. He felt Rick’s hands tighten on his shoulders as come coated his hand and stomach.

Rick rolled on to his back, boneless, pulling Daryl along with him. “Come on, take what you need.” Daryl wrapped his lube and come covered hand around his dick, taking in the sight of a flushed, pleasured Rick, blue eyes hooded and lips a kiss-swollen red. He stroked his other hand down Rick’s cheek, thumb brushing the singer’s plump bottom lip. Rick licked it, pulling it into his both to suck, eyes closed in pleasure. Daryl was so close already, and seeing Rick’s sinful both wrapped around his thumb had him streaking his come down Rick’s stomach.

He flopped down next to the man and pulled him in close. Rick grumbled as their sweat and come streaked bodies came together. “I’ll get it in a minute,” Daryl whispered as his eyes closed, kissing the sweaty curls at Rick’s temple.

***

Rick woke up warm on his stomach, head buried into his pillow with the crusty, itchiness of dried come thankfully absent. Daryl must’ve woken up and cleaned them during the night. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Daryl seated at an easel, early morning sun lighting him from behind.

“Morning.” he rasped.

“Morning gorgeous.” Daryl smiled, adding another stroke to his painting. Rick closed his eyes and stretched. “Don’t get up.” Rick cuddled back into his pillow with a smile.

“Am I your next masterpiece?” He was rewarded with a chuckle. Rick listened to the sound of brush strokes on canvas and early bird songs, gently dozing. Sometime later he felt the bed dip next to him and a hand run through his hair.

“Ya want coffee?” Daryl asked softly. Rick nodded and received a kiss on his forehead before Daryl got up. He sat up and watched him go to the kitchen and played with a sheet corner as Daryl prepared the coffee.

“Hey, Daryl?” Daryl continued pouring the coffee grinds into the machine but made eye contact with him. “It’s been awhile, so I don’t know how these things work anymore, but will I see you again?” He asked hesitantly. Daryl put the coffee container down.

“Ya wanna see me again?”

“Yea, I really do.”

“Then yea, you’ll see me again.” He returned his attention to the coffee maker as he admitted, “I like you. I really wanna see ya again too.” Rick smiled and settled back into bed with his heart soaring.

***

Dating Rick was easy. He accepted Daryl’s request to keep their relationship out of the spotlight, only arguing that his manager should be made aware. Because of this most of their dates were low key; staying in for dinner and a movie, taking Jinx on hikes and having a picnic. They tried game board nights, but Rick was hella competitive and they both agreed, for the sake of the relationship, to never play against each other again.

Rick had interviews and photo shoots to do (Daryl taped each interview and bought every magazine because he was proud of his boyfriend, much to Rick’s embarrassment of the magazine towers littering Daryl’s living room) and Daryl worked on his paintings, keeping them hidden from Rick (Rick would go to the galleries and buy paintings, against Daryl’s insistence, and they’d meet for dinner after).

It was nine months after that first night that Rick had to leave for a tour. Daryl missed him like crazy. They would Skype or talk on the phone when both were free (Daryl struggled with remembering what time zone Rick was in) and Michonne would text Daryl pictures and videos of Rick performing or just relaxing on the bus (he saved each one).

It was the morning of one of their Skype dates. Daryl had settled into the couch with Jinx on his lap (he missed Rick almost as much as Daryl) and coffee in his hand, pulling up the Skype app on his computer and waited for Rick to log on. He had ten minutes before the scheduled time, so Daryl turned on the t.v. to see what current shit show was happening in this country.

A pretty news anchor in a shocking pink shirt appeared on screen, putting down a stack of papers.

_After the break, news on the shocking shooting at a Rick Grimes’ concert in Phoenix last night._

It cut to commercial and Daryl was frozen. What the fuck did she just say? He scrambled off the couch, jostling Jinx, and grabbed his phone, quickly dialing Rick’s number. It went straight to voicemail. He tried Michonne’s and again got a voice mail.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Daryl threw it on the couch and began pacing, hands tangling in his hair. Was Rick okay? That thought repeated in his head over and over, fear gripping his heart. The sound of the news theme brought Daryl back to the present. He went over to the couch, leaning against its back as he listened.

_Rick Grimes, Georgia’s very own sweetheart, was shot after his concert last night in Phoenix. The shooter was twenty-four year old Fred Merbanks. Friends of the shooter say that he hated Grimes because he was the reason Merbanks’ girlfriend dumped him and that he would kill Grimes if he had the chance. They say he had always spoken of people he disliked this way and didn’t think they had any reason to be concerned._

_The ex-girlfriend, twenty-year-old Shelby Thompson, recently gave a statement to our reporters. Let’s take a look._

A young woman wearing a yellow cardigan and pink pixie pants was shown speaking into a microphone. _“I am speaking out today to give some clarity to the tragedy that occurred yesterday. Yes, Rick Grimes is the reason I broke up with Fred. My relationship with Fred wasn’t healthy. He was manipulative and controlling and for a long time I ignored it and told myself it was normal. Hearing Rick’s own story of abuse and recovery inspired me and listening to his music comforted me as I got help to get out of my relationship with Fred. Fred shouldn’t have even been there because of the restraining order. I want to apologize to Rick and his friends and family. I hate that Rick got caught in my drama and ended up hurt.”_ She wiped away a few tears as she finished.

The news anchor returned to the screen. _Merbanks has been sentenced to five years for assault and one year for violating the restraining order. Grimes was last seen taken away in an ambulance and we are waiting to hear from his PR reps._

Daryl turned the t.v. off and sat in silence. What the fuck was he going to do? What the fuck _could_ he do? _Rick. God, Rick._ Daryl couldn’t believe this was happening. What if Rick was dead? Daryl’s brain shut down at that thought. He picked up his phone and curled up in bed. All he could do was wait.

***

The sun was setting by the time Daryl’s phone began to ring. He answered it quickly, jumping out of bed to pace.

“Michonne! Thank fuck! How is he? Is he okay?”

“The good news is that he made it out of surgery just fine and the doctor’s say he’ll recover with minimal damage to his shoulder.” Daryl’s heart dropped.

“What’s the bad news?” Michonne was silent for a few moments before sighing.

“He’s in a coma and the doctor’s don’t know when, or if, he’ll wake up.” Daryl sat down heavily, speechless. Rick, his Rick, might never wake up? He’ll never see those blue eyes sparkle with mischief again? Won’t see his soft smile when he wakes up to Daryl painting him? Won’t be able to hold him and cuddle on the couch with him?

Daryl could only think of all the time and experiences they wasted trying to keep their relationship hidden. He had never ridden a roller coaster with Rick. Never went out to see a new movie with him. He could’ve been on tour with him these last few months instead of just seeing him through a screen.

“Daryl? Daryl?! You still with me?” Michonne’s voice was tinged with worry.

“Yea, sorry, ‘m here.”

“Good, I bought you a plane ticket and a car will be arriving in an hour to take you to the airport. I’ve put you down as family so you can visit him in the hospital until we move him to a private facility.”

“Okay.” 

“He’s going to be alright Daryl. We’ll make it through this.”

“Yea.” They exchanged a few more words about plans and then hung up. Only then did Daryl allow himself to cry.

***

It had been three months since Rick was shot. Michonne set them up in a rental house with Beth, an in-home nurse, to take care of Rick. Daryl helped Beth with changing the sheets and had her teach him how to give Rick his sponge bath so he could take over.

Daryl spent almost every waken moment in Rick’s room. He would talk or read to Rick, other times he would put on one of Rick’s favorite trashy reality shows while he painted, making snarky commentary he knew would make Rick laugh if he was awake. Some night he found it hard to leave, falling asleep in the armchair next to the bed before Beth would find him and make him go to sleep in his own bed.

It was a rainy afternoon and the Kardashians were fighting over something stupid on the t.v. Daryl was mixing a familiar blue when he heard a soft, “Hey gorgeous.” Daryl froze. How many nights has he dreamed of something like this? Was he even awake right now? He turned and there Rick was, eyes open giving Daryl a soft smile.

Daryl’s palette fell from his hands and tears slid down his cheeks as he approached Rick. “God, yer awake. Thank God yer awake.” He fell into the armchair covering his face in relief.

“Hey, hey, no tears. Come here.” Rick’s voice was hoarse reminding Daryl he was fucking awake and needed a fucking doctor. He stood up yelling for Beth who came rushing into the room.

“What’s wrong?”

“Rick’s awake.” Fresh tears were wiped away and he grabbed Rick’s hand and gave him a smile. “He’s awake.”

***

Rick never wanted to get shot again. It had taken him months of dieting and PT to build up his atrophied muscles. And during those months Daryl treated him like glass, even when the doctor said he was fit for regular activity.

He understood that Daryl went through some tough emotional shit while he was in a coma, but he wanted his snarky, rough around the edges boyfriend back goddamn it! Not this agreeable fellow who’s acting more like his nurse than his boyfriend.

It was when Daryl tried to fluff the pillows he was forced to rest on that he snapped. He stood up, startling Daryl backward. “For Christ’s sake Daryl! I’m not an invalid! I’m two weeks out from being done with PT, you do not need to treat me with kid gloves!”

“ ‘M not! You went through something traumatic and I’m just trying to help.”

“Just stop helping!” Rick watched as Daryl’s face fell and then close up. Rick sighed. “I just want my boyfriend back,” he said desperately. “I want things to go back to how they were before. I want you to fight me on what movies to watch. I want you to demand I make you dinner like a diva on days you spend painting and I do it because I know you’re exhausted and your hands are cramped and your back and wrists hurt. I want you to take me to bed and make me feel you for _days_ because you have so much passion you can’t always hold back. I want you to fucking treat me like I’m your fucking boyfriend who you fucking love and not like some fucking invalid you have to take care of!” Tears were streaming down Rick’s face and he was hiccuping through ugly sobs, body shaking.

Daryl had tears running down his face as he pulled Rick into a hug. Rick crumpled into him, clutching his shirt and sobbing into his shoulder. His dead weight had Daryl lowering them to the floor.

“ ‘M sorry Rick. ‘M so sorry. I’ve been a fucking mess since I heard you were shot. I almost fucking lost you.”

They cried together, holding and clutching each other for dear life. Eventually, it softened to sniffles and Rick pulled back to looked into Daryl’s eyes, blue on blue. “You just need to love me, Daryl. That’s all I need from you.” Daryl nodded and Rick pulled him in for a kiss. Everything was going to be alright.

***

It was Daryl’s first show since Rick was shot. He was happy Daryl continued to paint while he was in a coma. He dressed up and kissed Daryl goodbye, promising to see him for dinner. He met Michonne, who was wearing a beautiful plum gown, at the front door of the gallery.

“Madam?” He said holding out his arm. She laughed and looped their arms together. He opened the door and lead them inside. The first painting had him freezing on the spot. It was him. He was painted in golds and purples, asleep in Daryl’s bed with a soft smile on his face. Michonne tugged his arm when he stood staring for too long and guided him to the next.

Again it was him. Painted in blues and blacks, hiding in a blanket because Daryl convinced him to watch Grave Encounters even though he hated horror movies. 

The next, him and Jinx on a picnic blanket, curled together for a nap.

The next, him on stage singing.

The next, him in the kitchen cooking.

The next, the next, the next, all him. 

After the last painting, he turned to Michonne in question. She smiled and pointed behind him. He turned and there was Daryl. Daryl who never came to his own showings. Daryl dressed to the nines, hair tied back, smiling nervously at him.

“What are you doing here?” Rick asked as he came up to him. “What about keeping this out of the spotlight?”

Daryl took his hands, face serious. “I don’t care who knows we’re together. Because I know what it’s like to live without you and I never fucking want to do that again. Yer the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m no fucking good with words, but I want to paint you for the rest of our lives to show you how much I love you.” Rick’s eyes widened as Daryl got down on one knee and pulled out a ring. “Will you, Rick Grimes, marry me?”

Tears blurred Rick’s vision as he nodded vigorously. “Yes! Yes! God, I’ll marry you, Daryl Dixon.” Daryl slipped the ring on and stood, a giant smile on his face. Rick pounced on him, kissing him passionately. The crowd around them cheered and catcalled, reminding the two that they weren’t alone. They stopped kissing, but rest their foreheads together, a giant smile on each of their face.

“I love you, Rick Grimes.” Daryl said softly into the space between them.

“And I love you, Daryl Dixon.” Through ups and downs, they had made it to this point and Rick couldn’t wait to see what their future held.

The End.


End file.
